


The Sugar Baby Escapade

by staranon



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, F/F, F/M, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, basically everyone is jeremy's sugar daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-02 05:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 14,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12720552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staranon/pseuds/staranon
Summary: An episodic journey into the life of Jeremy and his 5 sugar daddies/mammas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so basically i got this prompt one night and this is how it started:
> 
> @kaysno asked: 'ot6 where Jeremy goes back to art college know that he has the funds but everybody thinks that the hot men picking Jeremy up from school are actually his sugar daddies?'
> 
> this is an episodic, non-chronological journey into jeremy's life as a college student, major criminal, and sugar baby.
> 
> i will post what i have written based off of prompts, so technically this fic will always be complete but will continuously be added to and expanded upon.

“Seriously,” Jeremy insisted. “You don’t have to do this.” He was clutching his art bag close to his chest, dreading the moment when Geoff would pull up alongside the curb and let Jeremy out.

It was one thing to be twenty-five and going back to fulfill his dream of earning his fine arts degree, but it was an entirely  _other_ thing for your more or less partners to drop you off personally like they were taking their kid to school.

“Nonsense,” said Geoff, waving off his concern. “Besides, we want to share this experience with you! Now you go out there and show these people what an artist you are.” He parked the car. They were right in front of the main building.

Jeremy slipped out of the car, slamming it quickly but not before Geoff said, “Have a good day!”

* * *

It’d be easier if he weren’t a criminal, Jeremy thought. It’d be easier if he weren’t in a relationship where each of the partners had a morally questionable profession, a normal sense of fashion, and the decency to keep quiet.

But whenever they’d find themselves in the most mundane situation, they always turned up the drama to eleven on a scale of five.

He didn’t want them to drop him off at school—even though he insisted several times that he could walk for Christ’s sake; he could even drive; he wasn’t a kid—because he didn’t want them to be seen and potentially exposed for being part of the most notorious gang in the city. The only reason why he was going back to school was because he no longer had to worry about finances. But since announcing his decision to go back to school, suddenly  _everyone_ had to get involved.

Gavin took him shopping for art supplies.  _High end art supplies._ The stuff he dreamed about owning when he was half on the streets, fired from his latest job.

“No no name brands,” Gavin insisted. “Only the good stuff for you. You’re gonna be the class’s wet dream when they see you walking in with this stuff.”

Jack was the one who helped him decide on what courses he could take, walking him through the whole admission process step by step.

Ryan said that if he wanted to gain some experience in art studios or if he wanted to try his hand at photography, he still had contacts from his modelling days.

Michael picked up the role of big brother. “If anyone gives you  _any_ problems, you tell them to talk to me.”

And Jeremy had patted his shoulder in solidarity. “Thanks, Michael.”

Geoff picked up the rite to drop him off to school first. “I never had any kids! Now I get to fulfill that dream of dropping them off to school!”

“Geoff. I’m twenty-five. You don’t need to do that.”

“No, no. You do not get to deprive me of this moment. First thing! Dropping you off in style!”

Well, it wouldn’t be such an issue if they would keep it low profile. But low profile wasn’t a concept they understood.

It started with  _the cars._ The sleek, brightly coloured sports cars they’d bring him to school in and pick him up with.

First, the mustang. Not too bad. Mustangs were fairly common. They also didn’t go all that fast, at least not as fast as their other cars, but still it drew attention when Michael came to pick him up.

Jeremy was sitting with his friends when he got the text. “I gotta get going,” he said, stuffing his sketchbook into his bag and standing up.

“Is that your ride?” asked Jane, someone from his sculpture class.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Who’s driving?”

“Oh. Just, uh, a friend. Yeah. I gotta go, so.” He pretty much ran to the car and hopped inside. “Just drive.”

“What’s wrong, Jeremy?” Michael asked, and he had this shit eating smirk on his face, looking like a cat ready to toy with its food.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” He said with a blushing face.

Michael grinned. “Are you getting shy on me, Jeremy? Lil J getting shy because his  _boyfriend_ picked him up from school?”

Jeremy buried his head in his hands. “ _I hate you._ ”

Michael laughed and rubbed his shoulder. “You’re adorable.”

* * *

Two weeks later it was the Ferrari. Of course Jack would take the Ferrari. It was bright fucking yellow. A beacon that screamed  _LOADED._

Rob from Art through the Renaisance was with Jeremy that day when Jack came strolling up to him. White shorts, floral printed short tied up to expose an expanse of skin at her waist. God, she could be Venus with the way her hair was curled.

She smiled when she saw Jeremy, throwing an arm shamelessly around his shoulders and pulling him against her. “Hey. Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he said, trying to stop his heart from racing. “So, Rob, can we continue this project tomorrow?”

“Sure thing, man.”

Jack turned to lead Jeremy back to the car. Before he left, Rob muttered, “Nice.”

* * *

The next time had nothing to do with cars. Jeremy found himself at a high end mall with Gavin. Gavin had decided that Jeremy needed wardrobe update. He did love these moments. From the moment Gavin first took him on a shopping trip, he had absolutely  _preened_ when Gavin showered affection upon him. He had no shame when Gavin whipped out his credit card for anything Jeremy wanted. It was nice being doted upon.

They were at the mall, finishing up their trip when Jeremy ran into some friends from his classes.

“Jeremy, hey!”

“Tess, hey!”

He hugged Tess from postmodern architecture while Gavin stood by silently, quickly tapping on his phone.

“Are you free this afternoon? We were thinking of meeting up to discuss going to the film festival. You in?”

“Sure! Text me a time and a place?”

“Sure thing!”

“You all good to go, love?” Gavin asked, standing close enough beside Jeremy to press a quick kiss to his temple.

“Yeah. You good?”

Gavin nodded and then decided to turn up the charm. “I don’t think you’ve introduced me to your friends, Jer.” He was laying his accent on thickly, because if you had a British accent, apparently most people found you to be 25% hotter.

He did it all the time. With everyone. Jeremy just wished he wouldn’t use it on his friends. When he knew his friends would bother him with questions again at class.

 _Who was that? Are you guys dating? I thought you were with that other guy. Are they loaded or something? Are_ you  _loaded? Wanna pick up the bar tab next time since you’re apparently dating four loaded people?_

He wished he could keep it simple. Keep his crew/family/life partners from interacting with his classmates. But life was never that clean cut. So he just dealt with the questions in good humour and with a shrug would say, “What do you want me to say?”

They never really could get anything out of him.

“Uh, these are just some of my friends,” Jeremy said, quickly introducing Gavin to Tess and Paula. “We should, uh, get going though, eh?”

“Why?” Gavin said with the most charming smile that could make anyone swoon. “We’re not in a rush. What are you two up to today?”

“Just chilling,” Paula said. She and Tess exchanged glances. “So how do you know Jeremy?”

_Subtle._

“Met him through work,” Gavin said with a cheeky wink he threw at Jeremy.  _Through work my ass._ It technically wasn’t a lie, but still.  _Through work._ “But yeah. We should get going, eh, love? Dinner tonight and all that.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, threading his arm through Gavin’s and tugging him along. “See you guys tomorrow. Just text me about the festival.”

“Sure thing. Bye, Jeremy. Bye, Gavin.”

They went their separate ways. Jeremy distinctly heard the sound of giggling and felt the blood rush to his face.

“Let’s just get out of here,” he muttered and pulled Gavin along.

“Your friends are so sweet, Jeremy. You should invite them over some time. Let us meet them.”

“I hate you.”

Later, without even discussing it with him, Gavin decided to pay for their entries into the film festival. “Have a bit of fun with them! You and your friends have been working hard. Let me do this for you.”

It was hard to stay mad at Gavin when he acted all chivalrous.

* * *

“So what is it exactly?” Rob asked as they finished up their work for the day for their combined classes in one of the open studios. “Because we all know they’re loaded. Is it like a sugar daddy thing?”

Jeremy nearly choked on his coffee. “What did you just say?”

At the sharpness of his tone, Rob backed off a little. “I’m just saying. They always show up in these rad cars. They always pay for your shit even if it’s just a coffee.  _Plus_ they’re all extremely good looking. I can’t be the only thinking this.”

“Gavin  _did_ pay for our tickets,” Tess said.

“He was just trying to be nice,” Jeremy said.

“Yeah,  _really nice,_ ” Paula added.

“Okay,” Jeremy said. “ _Maybe_ they like to spend a little money here and there. I don’t hear you guys complaining when you directly benefit.”

It was then that Ryan decided to make his grand entrance. First with the roar of his motorcycle before he entered moments later like a goddam Adonis. Leather jacket, hair a fine dirty blonde, pulled back artfully into a ponytail. Tall, broad shouldered. An example of peak, masculine beauty.

He had his helmet tucked under one arm. “Jeremy, you ready to go?”

“Yeah.” He tried to ignore the stares of his friends as they clearly ogled Ryan like he clearly wanted to be. Goddamn flirt.

“Hi,” Ryan said, voice such a lovely baritone. “I’m Ryan.” While he charmed half the people in the building, Jeremy finished up his work, put away his paints, and gathered everything to leave.

“Good to go,” he announced.

“Sweet. Let’s go, darling.”

 _“Darling,_ ” Paula muttered.

_“I know.”_

Outside, Ryan handed Jeremy a spare helmet and sat down on the bike.

“You’re a menace,” Jeremy muttered as he sat behind Ryan.

He could hear Ryan’s smile from underneath his helmet. “What? We just want to show everyone how much we love you.”

“While charming everyone else in the process?”

“Are you jealous, Jeremy? ’Cause that’s cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up and drive.”

“Sure thing, baby.”

 _Fuck._ He was so far gone for them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: I love, love, love your sugar baby escapades. It's something I've wanted ever since I first watched Yacht Party, cause Jeremy makes a lot of comments about how he'd never be able to afford any of this while the others are just doing the richest, dumbest shit ever and it's great. Or should I say, class? But anyway, I'd like it if Geoff's yacht made an appearance, if that's okay. And I wish you much luck with your writing, can't wait to see what you do. <3  
> ...  
> i got this, you get this

When Jeremy was five, he often went to school hungry because there were three other foster kids at the house he lived in and money was tight. It was fine. Jeremy was small. He didn’t need much food.

When he was ten, he shoplifted for the first time. A hat to keep his head warm. Winter was approaching, and he didn’t like his foster parents, because  they weren’t the nicest people. He often spent hours outside, waiting for them to fall asleep so he could crawl back inside without a fuss. Or he would just sleep on the streets. He was small. No one noticed him.

When he was sixteen, he hotwired his first car because he was getting  _the fuck out of dodge and never looking back._ There was a cut on his head that was bleeding. His foster father was quick, but Jeremy was just quick enough to get out and slip into the old man’s car. He drove as far he could on that tank of gas until he was forced to hitchhike and grift his way across the country.

That’s how he made it to Los Santos, a penniless orphan with zero skills in anything.

Fast forward nine years, and every once in a while, Jeremy will take a moment to step back and think about how he got here in the first place. He wouldn’t exactly say he’s filled with feelings of self-loathing, thinking he doesn’t  _deserve_ this. (Those issues were kissed out of him  _long_ ago.) But it does make him appreciate how well off he is. From penniless and starving on the streets to rolling in it and living in one of the most expensive penthouses in the city.

Whenever the Fakes get too hot in the city or they’re just bored, Geoff prepares the yacht. It’s the biggest fucking thing Jeremy has ever seen, fully staffed with a helicopter landing pad. It’s a nice getaway for a while.

He’s sitting on the pool deck, laid out on a lounge chair, watching Gavin, Ryan, Michael, and Geoff ensue in some sort of water wars in the pool. Both Michael and Ryan have Gavin and Geoff perched on their shoulders, each trying to topple the other into the water. It’s an idyllic scene that’s he capturing in his sketchbook, just something quick in lieu of an exercise.

Jack is laid outside him with a book open on her lap. She tilts down her sunglasses to look at the drawing. “You’ve gotten better,” she says. “I’m happy for you.”

They always say that to him. ‘I’m happy for you.’ ‘I’m proud of you.’ ‘You’re looking good, Lil J.’ Now more than ever. Especially since he entered the fine arts program. They’re happy for him because he’s finally doing something he’s always wanted to do. It’s not a  _necessity._ Not in the way stealing food and lifting wallets were. This is something his  _soul_ wants, because he has an artist’s soul. And it’s nice knowing they all support him, that they all want to see him succeed.

And that makes him pretty damn happy.

* * *

“Looks like Jeremy had some fun under the sun with  _all_ the sugar daddies,” Rob says as he peaks through Jeremy’s sketchbook.

Tess and Paula look their fill as Jeremy abandons his coffee on the counter and leaps over a table to grab it from them.

“Fucking spoiled,” Paula mutters.

He sticks his tongue out at her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: So what if the sugar daddies start buying Jeremy ridiculous, extravagant items and convince Jeremy to wear the fancy clothes they buy him. Except they sugar daddies don’t really coordinate and Jeremy ends up trying to make all the pieces work and suddenly he’s in a cowboy hat, a purple blazer, a... oh.  
> ...  
> the rimmy tim origin story ladies and gentlemen

It starts with a custom pair of leather gloves, racing gloves with the half fingers, Velcro straps, and the most comfortable interior that Jeremy doesn’t even know he’s wearing them.

Ryan got them for him because Jeremy recently bought a motorbike so he and Ryan can go on that long awaited bike trip up into the country sometime in the fall. Ryan gives these to him when they’re in bed one night. Jeremy immediately pulls them on because he wants to and flexes his fingers.

“These,” he says. “Are so  _damn_ comfortable. I don’t want to ever take them off.”

Ryan laughs. “What are you going to do? Wear them to bed?”

“Don’t tell me that these don’t do something for you.” To emphasize his point, he straddles Ryan’s waist and runs his hands over his chest, along his pectorals and up to his neck. It’s the slightest pupil dilation that gives Ryan away.

_“Fuck.”_

* * *

“What about these?”

They’re in the middle of a heist a jewelry store when Gavin decides to try on expensive aviators. He’s preening like the damn peacock he is in front of the mirrors, asking Jeremy for his opinion every so often.

Now, Gavin already has several pairs of aviators, one with a $6,000 price tag. But he’s always looking for something because no one will tell him no.

“Eh,” Jeremy says. “I’ve seen better on you.”

“Same. But you on the other hand.” Gavin perches the sunglasses on his nose delicately and has him look himself in the mirror. “I think they suit you.” Gavin holds him from behind. “Yeah. We’re definitely taking these with us.”

* * *

The cowboy hat comes from a fair. It’s not particularly expensive or name brand or anything, but it’s a memorable night of stupid fair games and a fucking trip on the Ferris wheel because Michael can be cheesy as shit sometimes.

He wins the hat in a sharpshooter game and perches it on top of Jeremy’s head. “I was gonna go for the giant teddy bear, but this seemed less conspicuous. Plus you can actually carry this home.”

They ride the Ferris wheel to the top, and it stops for a while so they can see the pier and the beach, awash in the setting’s sun oranges and pinks. Michael throws his arm around his shoulder, and Jeremy unabashedly snuggles into his side.

“That hat,” Michael says. “Didn’t know you could pull off the mid-west look.”

“ _Howdy, partner. Wanna hitch a ride on my stud?”_ It’s a terrible Texan accent, but it has Michael laughing, and Jeremy laughs, too, and soon they’re kissing and it’s absolutely beautiful.

* * *

Every once in a while, Geoff and Jack will take the boys shopping for suits. They often ruin their tailored suits as soon as they get them, but what’s the use of limitless wealth if you’re not going to spend it? So Geoff puts in a call for Jeremy at his personal tailors and hauls him along with Jack so they can drink champagne and talk about what shade of blue is better.

Jeremy stands in front of a mirror and has himself measured at all angles.

“I was thinking something dark,” Geoff says with a catalogue spread open on his lap that he and Jack are looking at. “Like a deep navy blue.”

“Or a nice dark gray,” Jack muses. “What do you think Jeremy?”

“Well …”

* * *

“PURPLE?! $6,000 AND YOU GO WITH PURPLE?!”

“GRAY IS FUCKING BORING! YOU NOW HOW OFTEN I HAVE TO DEAL WITH GRAY AT SCHOOL? ALL THE FUCKING TIME!”

“Well. As long as  _you’re_ happy with it.”

“I am.”

“Pay the tailor, Geoff.”

“The most expensive damn eye sore if you’re telling me.”

* * *

Everyone has their look. When they get together to pull off some crazy stunt and have their faces splashed over social media, they each go with something striking so that no one will forget them. Jack likes her Hawaiian shirts. Gavin is glittering in gold. Ryan has his creepy fucking mask. And Michael has his patented leather jacket.

Now it’s Jeremy’s time to show the people what he’s made of.

He steps out into the garage decked out in his new outfit.

It’s purple. It’s garish. It’s topped with a cowboy hat and aviator sunglasses. He tugs on his half gloves as he approaches the gang.

They’re all looking at him, wide eyed and smirking.

“What the  _fuck,_ Jeremy?” Michael says.

Jeremy struts towards them, does a little spin and tucks his hands into the pockets of his suit. “Well, what do you think?”

“What are the cowboy boots for?” Gavin asks.

“To go with the hat. Obviously.”

“Fucking purple,” Geoff moans. “All right. Everybody in. It’s not like he’s taking tips from fucking Greene, Jesus fucking Christ.”

It’s garish and it’s purple, but Ryan winks at him from under the mask.

Go big or go home. As is the Fake motto.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> miss-ingno asked: Ryan coming in for (nude?) art modelling. Jeremy is about to expire and his friend in the class keeps mouthing things like "wow dude" and "omg he's ripped" at him  
> ...  
> i had a bad day so it's time for this. who's with me?

Jeremy is going to die today. He’s either going to have a heart attack or some form of aneurysm.

Today in one of his rudimentary art classes, the prof decided they should have some experience in sketching the nude form. And, okay, Jeremy’s fine with this. He’s already had to look up nude photos on the computer for some of his projects, and now he’s working with the real thing. And he’s looking forward to it. He loves it when he gets to sketch and draw with the others. Just a quiet time of sketching for an hour and half.

Except when the prof announces their nude model.

“We have a very special guest today,” Turner announces. “His name is James King, and he’s an international model, having done shoots for Gucci and Boss.”

And then fucking  _Ryan_ walks in, dressed in only a bathrobe, hair pulled up into a bun. He’s wearing glasses, acting like Clark fucking Kent to hide the fact that he’s actually  _the Vagabond._

“Hi,” he says, smiling brightly, and Jeremy can tell half the class is in love with him. “I look forward to working with you guys for the next week.”

“All right!” Turner says. “Let’s get started.”

* * *

Jeremy’s fucking dying. Rob and Paula are on either side of him and Tess is beside Paula, because this is a pre-req course and they all need to take it, and _of course Ryan just had to torment Jeremy and volunteer his services as the nude model because he likes riling Jeremy up and ugh. Fuck him._

Once the prof has Ryan settled into the best position, Ryan drops his robe, and the class begins. Jeremy’s pretty sure he’s experiencing tunnel vision, and Rob gives him a look that says  _holy fuck._

And, please. He doesn’t need comments on his boyfriend’s anatomy. Not today.

So Jeremy tries to keep it out of his find as he sets the paper to pencil. He keeps his figure faceless and focuses on getting the general shape right, catching the tilt of Ryan’s hip and the spread of his legs, ignoring  _everything else betwixt them_ because no. Just no.

He gets through the class amazingly well and excuses himself to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face and wait for Ryan to disappear. He does, thankfully, because he knows when to stop teasing and leave Jeremy in peace.

Unfortunately, his friends don’t know when to keep quiet.

“You didn’t tell us your boyfriend was a model,” Tess says.

“Yeah, and good looking, too,” Paula says.

“Can you ask him what his workout regimen is like?” Rob says. “Because he is fucking ripped.”

Jeremy stands up and says. “I have to go now.”

“What about your sketchbook?”

“Oh, you can keep it.”

* * *

That night he pins Ryan against his bedroom door, pulling him down by the shirt to kiss him, one hand moving to unbuckle his belt.

“You are,” he says against his lips. “The  _worst._ ”

Ryan laughs. “I like it when you’re riled up. Isn’t your friend Paula looking for someone to do photoshoots with?”

“Shut. Up.”

He pulls Ryan in and pulls him down onto the bed, hands getting to the skin he had to trace on paper. He’s always been a fan of the hands on approach to learning.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shadeofazmeinya asked: thoughts for the sugar baby escapade: please imagine gav getting golden lipstick, explaining to jeremy he just wants to try it out but really its cause when he kisses him goobye for the day on his cheek he leaves a lovely lil lipstick print for all of jeremy's friends to see.  
> ...  
> you now what, all the fakes are teases. how does jeremy surviveÉ

It’s a lazy Saturday morning that has Jeremy up and looking at some of his paintings. One of them is due next week and might be shown in a gallery at the end of term. He wants to invite the crew, knowing they’d love to see some of his finished work. Right now he’s working on the second layer, mixing up a new set of colours to continue his work.

He gets deep into his work, doesn’t notice when the door to his room opens and footsteps approach him from behind.

“Jer- _rimmy._ ” Gavin snuggles him from behind, arms sneaking around his waist. “Michael wants to know if you want anything specific for lunch.”

“Something spicy,” he says and turns his head to the side to look at Gavin properly. “Hi,” he says, smiling.

“Hi, love.”

“You’ve been experimenting again.”

Gavin often has fun with gold shaded makeup. Eyeshadow, eyeliner, body glitter. It’s a bitch to clean off the sheets, but it’s fun in the moment.

Today, he has on golden lipstick.

“I love it,” Jeremy says, leaning in to kiss him lightly. It’s striking and it’s so, so Gavin. Golden, delicate,  _beautiful._ “Can you sit on the bed actually? I want to see if I can capture that shade. It’ll be great for highlighting.”

So Gavin sits still on the edge of his bed so Jeremy can take his time and mix the right pants. After the painting is left to dry, they make out on the bed as Jeremy kisses away the gold to leave red, swollen lips behind.

* * *

At the movie theatre that night, Rob is looking at him suspiciously. “You know,” he says after a time. “You’ve got gold lip prints on your cheek.”

_“What?”_

“Yeah, how’s Gavin doing?” Tess asks.

Jeremy reaches up to rub off the imprint left behind before anyone else can see. “What are you talking about?”

“Gavin took us out for lunch and makeovers one day,” Paula says. “You didn’t tell me he had a gold fetish.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a fetish. And what do you mean he took you guys out for lunch? When did this happen?”

“Like, two weeks ago?” Rob says. “My skin has never been softer.”

“Shhh,” Tess says. “The movie’s starting.”

As the previews being to roll, Jeremy sends off a quick text to Gavin.

_Stop wining and dining my friends???_   
_you’re making me look bad_

_Jealous? ;)_

Gavin sends a selfie of himself. He’s contoured the hell of his cheekbones and added the gold lipstick, looking sultry up at the camera.

_Because it suits you  
<3_

_tease_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adorablyfullmetal asked: So if you decide to nix or table the other prompt, ot6 showing up to an art show that Jeremy’s work is in. Public embarrassment, chatting it up with his friends.  
> ...  
> upon further review, this inclues less public embarassment and more angst. anyway. it's a thing

It’s the end of term gallery show on campus. It’s for his pre-req painting class, and he’s been required to dress up for the occasion. It’s considered to be a black tie affair, so Jeremy dresses as finely as he can, smoothing back his recently blue-dyed hair. He gave invitations to the crew, shrugging off the importance of a night like this, because he knows they’re busy what with the recent Haus fuck up.  _(“God fucking dammit, James,” Geoff had said. “This is why we can’t have nice things.”)_

Still. He’s hoping maybe Jack can make it out. She always does.

He gets there early to make sure the setup is right and welcomes in the flood of parents, friends, and prospective employers. It’s a great night for young talent to show their faces, and immediately, Jeremy can see Tess being surrounded by three well-dressed persons  so she can explain the madness behind her painting entitled  _The Death of Minos._ The figure of her painting—a simple close up shot that captured the person’s collarbones and up to their mouth—looks familiar, and Jeremy frowns suspiciously.

Leave it to Gavin to get himself involved in the gallery somehow. He’s way too taken with his friends.

The night continues successfully, and Jack shows up in a striking red dress with a V-neck and slits up both legs. She hugs Jeremy when she sees him and looks to his painting.

“Oh, Jeremy. This is  _gorgeous._ ”

“Thanks. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out.” And he is. He can see his own improvement from the beginning of the term to now, and he’s come  _so far._ And he has so much further yet to go.

“Did the others say they were coming?”

“I talked to Geoff, but he sounded rushed. I’m sorry, baby.”

Jeremy shrugs. He wasn’t expecting anything, honestly. They’re criminals and managing several branching crews at the same time. And what with Haus fucking up and the vein in Geoff’s forehead bulging, he assumed it was going to be a long night.

But he’s happy here as it is. Jack doesn’t do the grand gestures like the others do. She likes keeping it simple, and Jeremy is occupied enough with talking to fellow classmates and visitors, explaining the theory behind his painting.

“So, I titled it  _Agony_ because I wanted to capture the side of us that we often try to hide. The angry part of us that’s just screaming all the time, so that’s when you get to the left half of the painting and it all begins to melt together to create this muddled self-perception of ourselves.”

He answers their questions, explains the methods he used while he worked, and many people seem genuinely interested in what he has to say. It’s great. And then comes the question—

“Yeah, hi. What colour of gold did you use for the highlights on the right side of your painting? I’ve been looking  _everywhere_ for that shade.”

And it’s Gavin. He sees him there, and he spots the others, dotted throughout the gallery, milling around, blending in.

Jeremy answers and after that the crowd begins to dissipate. Gavin approaches him sheepishly. “Sorry we’re late. Geoff was bitching about us looking presentable. It took forever to get out of the damn house.”

Jeremy laughs and looks down at the floor. “It’s fine. You didn’t need to come. It’s not that big of deal.”

“Hey, don’t say that. We love what you do. And this? Stunning. Absolutely perfect.”

They don’t come up to him in a group, and for that he’s thankful. They come up by themselves, or in pairs like Jack and Geoff. They look their fill, lean in close to see the detail Jeremy’s put into his work. It’s a rather relaxing evening, and by the end of it, Jeremy and his friends are bone weary and exhausted. They’ve finished the semester on a high note, and it feels good to have made it this far.

Outside in the lamp lit streets, Jeremy stands in a group with his friends. They plan on hitting up a bar to close off the night, and are inviting Jeremy to tag along. He’s ambushed by a giggly Michael before he can answer.

“Jeremy,” he says, wrapping a strong arm around the back of his neck. There’s slight bruising around one of his eyes, concealed by Gavin’s hands no doubt, but still. They probably ran into trouble tonight. “We’re gonna … we’re gonna hit up Taco Bell on our way back. You should  _totally_  bring your friends.” He sounds a bit out of it, probably on heavy duty painkillers as well.  _Poor guy._

Jeremy holds him up and spots Ryan’s gaze. He gives him a look and nods to Michael. Ryan makes his way over.

“Hey, Michael,” Jeremy says. “That sounds great, but I was actually planning on going out for a few drinks. Maybe next time, pal.”

“Okay, okay. I just want you to know that … you’re damn amazing, you know that? Look at this guy.” He’s talking to his friends now. “He’s so good, and so humble, right? It drives me crazy sometimes.”

Ryan swoops in to save the day. “All right.” He takes up Michael’s other arm and tugs him away gently from Jeremy. “I think we’re going to call it a night. Call us if you need anything, okay?” He brushes Jeremy’s shoulder gently and says goodnight to Jeremy’s friends before hauling Michael away to the crew where they wait for Geoff’s limousine to pull up. Geoff salutes him and ducks inside.

“What’s up with Michael?” Paula asks. “He seemed really out of it.”

“Oh,” Jeremy says, pulling something up quickly. “He’s a semi-pro boxer, and I guess the fight was a bit rougher tonight than usual.”

“And he still came out to see your show?” Rob says. “That is, like, the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. Fuck, Jeremy. I’m getting, like, second handed love vibes from you. This is just too adorable. I need to go drink my feelings away.”

They go bar hopping until one am and Jeremy feels like crawling back home and under the covers of whoever’s bedroom door is open. Mostly, he’s feeling morose. If Michael was hurt bad, then the others must be sporting various wounds as well.

When he gets to the penthouse, it’s dark and quiet. Geoff is up in the living room his feet on the table. He startles when Jeremy tosses his keys in the key dish by the front door.

“Hey, Lil J.” He stretches and yawns. “Have a good time?”

“Yeah. Are you guys—”

Geoff waves him off and then pats the cushions next to him. Jeremy sits down. “Listen,” Geoff says. “Tonight was for you. And yeah we had a schedule conflict, and yeah we’re a little beat up, but this night was  _for you._ You don’t need to worry about us all the time. Take some time for yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” Jeremy says.  _I’m trying._

“After this, we’re heading to the Swiss fucking Alps,” Geoff says. “Enough of this Haus bullshit. They can sort out their own problems next time.”

“Sounds like a plan, boss.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: sugar baby escapades: some gala where some rich out-of-towner with no idea of the situation latches on to jeremy and tries to chat him up or w/e and jeremy is totally oblivious and doesn't understand why the rest are all being so hostile and weird?  
> ...  
> let's bring up more of those jealous Fakes shall we?

Being a criminal isn’t all aimless destruction and leading the cops on a merry chase. Sometimes it’s wining and dining and high society with crystal tumblers. Sometimes it’s an open bar watching Gavin go to work on potentially wooing a new investor or backer, testing the waters to see who has a moral compass with.

The Fakes aren’t that terrible. They give what they can to downtrodden in society, leaving anonymous tips, donating time and energy for projects they all wished they had access to when they were but teenage screw ups. They generally try to go for people who think and act like them. Anyone who doesn’t have a line is an automatic out. They need people with scruples.

So it’s one of those nights that Geoff hosts in a rented out villa in the Vinewood hills. The Fakes and their associates—B-Team, Haus, Stream Team—are all milling about, dressed in suits and dresses, decked out in jewelry, picking up ordeurves and complimentary champagne being passed around by the catering service.

Jeremy is bubbly. Well, he should actually say tipsy, but he’s having a good time. These galas are usually a fun night after everyone is given the customary pat down at the front doors. He’s catching up with his old partners, Trevor and Matt from the B-Team. He worked his way up to the main six and has missed spending time with the two of them, when they worked out of a room the size of a shoebox before Geoff gave them a bit more money to work with. He spends a while catching up before drifting back to the bar to order another one of those imported Belgian beers.

He takes a seat at the bar because when he’s tipsy and full of energy like this, he often gets wobbly. So he sits down and people watches for a while. There’s Gavin hanging off of Ryan’s arm. Michael and his new crush Lindsay. Jack and Geoff, always inseparable. The Haus crew, an inseparable team of seven that’s even more possessive of each other than the Fakes are.

Everyone’s just having a good time! What a good night! Everything’s glittering and golden, and if you forget about the fact that everyone’s a wanted criminal, it could be just a regular high society function.

Another man comes up to the bar and turns to the side to greet Jeremy.

“Harvard,” he says his name is, and Jeremy doesn’t know if it’s his first or last, but he shakes the man’s hand and says, “Jeremy.”

“You look a bit young to be in a crowd like this,” Harvard says. “How did you get tangled up in this mess?”

“Well, it starts out with a shitty childhood and it ends up attracting the attention of a kingpin.” Jeremy takes a swig of his beer.

Harvard smiles kindly. “Shitty childhood. Well, I guess that’s something we all have in common here. Screw them up young enough, and they end up where we are.”

“Cheers to that, pal.” Jeremy clinks glasses with Harvard a bit heavier than he means to. Okay. Maybe he’s a bit more than tipsy, but things are okay.

He begins chatting it up with Harvard, because the guy seems nice, and he looks at Jeremy in a way that makes Jeremey feel like he’s the only one in the room. It’s nice. Out of all these people, Harvard wants to talk to him. Him! And he doesn’t even know what Geoff has to say to these people. He’s just around for the ride, but Harvard makes it seem easy, and he loves it. Absolutely loves talking to him and the way he’ll look down, supposedly bashful, as Jeremy hangs on his every word.

Jeremy doesn’t notice when Harvard puts his hand on his knee. Suddenly it’s just there, and okay, guess that’s where this is headed.

And then Ryan’s there, and Jeremy smiles up at him. “Ryan!” he says. “Have you … you need to meet Harvard. Have you met him before?”

“Yes,” Ryan says, and he’s not looking at Jeremy. He’s looking at Harvard, and Harvard slowly takes back his hand. “I’ve met him.” He sets a heavy hand on Jeremy’s shoulder.

Geoff plops down on the bar stool on the other side of Harvard. “Harvard,” he says, loudly. “It’s been a while. How are you?”

As Harvard reacquaints himself with Geoff, the others arrives one by one, crowding Jeremy in at the bar, brushing their hands along his book as they reach for their drinks. Gavin daringly kisses the top of his head, making Jeremy giggle and blush because he loves it when Gavin does that. It makes him feel special.

And while the Fakes are free with their gestures of affection, Harvard shrinks in on himself.

“What do you think of Jeremy here, Harvard?” Geoff says. “Isn’t he great? He’s got a sharp eye. Great surveillance man. Yeah, he fits in  _so_ well with us.” He pushes away from the stool and makes to stand by Jeremy’s side, Ryan vacating the space so Geoff can put his arm around Jeremy’s shoulder, and Jeremy beams at him, pride welling up in his chest because he loves it when Geoff speaks well of him.

“I see,” Harvard says, smile tight. “Well, if you’ll excuse me. I do have a long drive to make. Thank you for hosting, Ramsey. It’s been a wonderful evening.” Harvard leaves without saying goodbye to Jeremy, but Jeremy doesn’t care. Geoff is holding him close

“That’s enough drinks for you,” he says.

The rest of the night is a blur. Jeremy somehow ends up in bed with Michael pulling his pants off.

“You’re such a lightweight,” he mutters.

“What are you doing over there, Ryan?” That’s Gavin.

“Seeing where this Harvard guy lives,” Ryan says.

_“Jealous?”_

“Shhhh _hhhhh._ ”

“Comfy, Lil J?” Michael asks.

Jeremy nods and wraps himself up in the comforter. “’love you guys, s’ much.”

“Love you, too, Lil J.”

The Haus crew may be possessive of each other and more readily to show it. But no one matched the Fakes on their level of jealousy.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> diva-de-gallifrey asked: I don't know if you are still doing this but would you write some sugar baby escapades about jeremy being self conscious?? It's a great hc  
> ...  
> i actually have warnings for this one.  
> WARNING: slut shaming

It’s not that it’s a secret anymore. A lot of people know that Jeremy has a …  _vivid_ living situation. To put it one way.

They know that he’s potentially seeing at least five people, and that said five people are fucking loaded. He tries to keep himself above the gossip. He doesn’t need to give anyone details. They’re not entitled to any information. He just humors his friends’ interest because it’s not like they’re being snide about it. They don’t care about his living situation, so long as it doesn’t interfere with group projects or his own mental health.

But some people. Some people are crude. To put it  _lightly._ Some people look at him and they think—

“He’s such a fucking slut, you know? I mean, he has like five fucking partners. What’s up with that?”

And he turns to them and says, “Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s really not any of your fucking business, okay pal?”

The guy, clearly shocked from being called out like that, steps down, but Jeremy is left with a sour taste in his mouth and decides to take off for the rest of the day. His friends watch him go by, knowing that he needs his own time to process this.

His fingers are curled into his palms, and they hurt when he unclenches later on the bus back.

He’s not a  _fucking slut_ for being in this relationship. He knows that. It’s a fucking rude comment to make, made by those who don’t know any better, who don’t know anything about the context of the situation,  _who are so fucking stupid and fucking dumb that they don’t even think twice about—_

“Oh, hey, Jeremy.” Jack enters the room and walks along the back of the couch that Jeremy is sitting on. She hugs him from behind. “Wasn’t expecting to see you so early.” She departs and goes off to rattle around in the kitchen

_I’m not a fucking slut. That’s not what this fucking is. I’m not, god fucking dammit._

Jack returns and sits down next to him, drinking for a water bottle, feet propped up on the coffee table with a magazine open on her lap. Jeremy spins his phone in his hands.

“Mm. Geoff says we’re pre-planning on Saturday, so keep your calendar open.”

He nods.

“Hey.” Jack nudges him with her arm. “What’s up? You see . . off.”

He shrugs. He doesn’t even know how to put words to it. It’s hard, admitting that such few words can creep under your skin and just live there. The whole sticks and stones things is such bullshit. Words are fucking powerful whether you like it or not, and it may have been said glibly, but he’s here now and stuck in his own fucking head.

“Just kids being dumb,” he says. “I don’t know.”

“What kids?”

He shrugs. “Just people saying stuff they don’t know nothing about and just …” He trails off and huffs. “Do you ever get comments about what we have? With each other?”

“Someone making nasty comments about us on campus?”

“Well, not the Fakes, but what we all have, I guess.”

“People talk trash about things they don’t understand, things that scare them. Doesn’t make them true.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

He’s in a polyamorous relationship with five other people of all types of genders and sexualities. He’s accepted that what they have isn’t conventional, but who fucking cares? It’s none of their business. He loves what they have. They’ve helped him come so far in his life, and he’s appreciated what they’ve done for him.

He just wishes other people could see that instead of the gold digging, cheating persona they’ve given him.

“Pick your battles, Jeremy,” Jack says, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. “Sometimes they’re in the world, but sometimes they’re in you, and you just need to figure out how to overcome the frustration. An di know it’s hard, but you can always come to us and talk, okay?”

“Okay.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> miss-ingno asked: (also like if anyone needed more story ideas fodder, I would suggest Jeremy giving Rob a key to his apartment after grabbing all the guns but maybe one or two backups, and basically Rob moving in because Jeremy is never home anyway) (with a lot of protesting by Rob and Jeremy maybe going like 'look I'm not home a lot, clean it up every now and then and be in there so no gang members decide to squat please?')
> 
> @nefarious247 asked: Oh my god okay I saw that it’s now canon that Rob is a couch-hopper, and dear god can he please call Jeremy one night super late and be drunk off his ass in need of a place to stay and Jeremy’s like “heck man what do I do? I can’t abandon him!”  
> ...  
> this is in response to a character post i made for the OCs of this story. check it out [here](https://staranon95.tumblr.com/post/166923346348/sugar-baby-back-stories-since-this-is-officially-a)
> 
> but yeah. two birds one stone. here we are

Jeremy’s woken by Ryan’s insistent nudging.

“It’s your phone,” he says. “Answer it.” He throws an arm over his eyes, and Jeremy blindly reaches for his vibrating phone. He slips out of bed and moves to the hallway to answer the call.

“Hello?” He rubs a hand over his eyes.

_“Heyyyyy, Jeremyyy. How’s it—how’s it going?”_

“Oh my god. Rob?”

_“Yeah, buddy! It’s your buddy Rob! Um.”_

“Are you drunk right now or something?”

_“Or something probably. I’ve had a rough night.”_

“Go to bed, Rob.”

_“Yeah, see? Here’s the thing.”_

Jeremy sighs. He pulls the phone away for a moment, and thinks about the situation. Since becoming friends with Rob, he’s realized two things about him: 1) he’s extremely reckless and 2) he’s slightly homeless. He hopes that tonight has more to do with the fact that he can’t find a place to crash, because when Rob gets rowdy, he catches people’s attention; and Jeremy’s just hoping that this situation has less to do with Rob getting into some trouble with some drug runners.

“Just stay where you are and turn your location on. I’ll be there soon.”

_“You’re the best!”_

He goes to pull on some pants and a jacket. He quickly whispers to Ryan that he’s helping out a friend. Ryan simply grunts and falls silent.

Jeremy picks up his keys and heads out, looking at the location of Rob’s phone as he goes down to the garage to get into his car. It takes him ten minutes to find Rob, curled up on a bus stop bench. He rolls down his window and calls out to him.

“Rob. Hey Rob!”

Rob startles.

“Get the fuck in. I’m tired.”

Rob grins and slides off the bench, absentmindedly picking up his duffle bag and flopping down on the passenger’s seat. “You’re a lifesaver, bro.”

“Did you take anything I need to be concerned about?” Jeremy asks.

Rob’s not exactly a druggy, but he  _partakes_ every once in a while.

“No, but I really gotta stop self-medicating.” He presses his head against the window and sighs.

“All right, buddy, let’s get you into bed.”

He goes to his own apartment. Each of the Fakes generally have their own place that they escape to, a place that is just  _there’s._ Jeremy hasn’t been by to his apartment for a while since he’s hoping between Michael and Ryan recently, but it should be clear enough for Rob to sleep in—and hopefully there shouldn’t be  _too much_ incriminating details left behind for him to notice.

They get there in twenty minutes. Rob follows Jeremy up the stairs and into the spacious apartment. It’s a bit cold—he hasn’t been here in two weeks. He dials up the thermostat and shows Rob to the bedroom. “You can take the bed, all right.”

Rob sighs and trudges over to the bed.  _“Okay.”_

Once Jeremy is sure he’s out, he sweeps through the apartment and picks up anything that might call out to his criminal past. He shoots off a quick text to Ryan and crashes on the couch.

He wakes up to Rob standing over him. “Dude. You have, like, no food in this apartment.”

“Jesus, Rob. It’s like … six thirty.”

“I was hungry. Chill.”

“We’ll just go out for breakfast then.” Jeremy flips over on the couch and stretches out the kinks in his back. Rob settles on an armchair and crosses his legs. “So, what’s the situation then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you … looking for a place to stay?”

Rob shrugs. “It is what it is.”

“I’m serious. Do you. Need a place to stay.”

Rob gives a non-committal sound. Jeremy gets it. It might sound embarrassing, asking for help like this. But what Jeremy has come to realize is that doesn’t have a safety net under him. As far as he knows, Rob is here alone. He doesn’t have a Tess or a Paula. He doesn’t have a sugar daddy like Jeremy. He’s on his own.

“Are you, like, offering me a place to stay here?”

“I have, like, five different houses I jump between. Honestly, make yourself at home here.”

“I can’t really.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Pay you, you know.”

“Rob, I’m not expecting anything in return from you. I just want to know if you got a safe place to sleep.”

He sees the gears in Rob’s head turning. Then he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’d be great actually.”

“Great. Come on, let’s get some breakfast. There’s a great truck stop diner that offers you a shit ton of food for five dollars. That and unlimited coffee.”

Rob grins. “Sweet. Let’s do it.”

They head back out to Jeremy’s car and buckle up. As Jeremy pulls away, Rob looks at him and asks, “Does this make me your sugar baby now?”

“I’m going to ignore that.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> miss-ingno asked: you can't just say Paula looks like that Michael lookalike without having the friends dress up as members of the Fakes for a Halloween thing. Maybe there's a cosplay competition and they try to get Jeremy to join them and Jeremy shows up and nearly has a heart attack (including such gems as "you're short, I hear Rimmy Tim is the shortest of them - here's a orange tee and a purple zip-up hoodie, Rob promised to bring his old cowboy hat-")  
> ...  
> a halloween based prompt is still in season, right?

Jeremy shows up at Tess’s house for a pre-game. It’s Halloween night. Jeremy isn’t much for dressing up. He does enough of that for the crew and for school. He’s happy just to be a wall flower tonight.

Which isn’t going to stick when he gets to Tess’s.

She opens the door and she’s wearing a roughened leather jacket and denim jeans with sturdy boots. Her hair is a bit frizzier than usual. She pulls down her sunglasses. “Oh, thank god. You came as nothing. Paula! We’ve got a clean canvas to work with!”

“Wha—” Jeremy’s yanked inside the house and pulled to the living room.

“Jeremy!” Paula says. She has her hair piled up onto her head. White paint covers her brow, contrasted with black around her eyes to make an elegant skull.

_Oh god._

It’s his art piece return to haunt him.

“Whaaatt is this?” he asks.

There’s a garishly orange t-shirt on the couch with an equally garish purple zip up hoodie.

_“Oh god.”_

“So,” Paula says, clapping her hands together. “We figured that because you’re short like the Rimmy Tim you could dress up as him tonight. You’d make a pretty good look-a-like.”

Jeremy laughs at that—slightly out of nerves, slightly because of  _course he’s going to be the Rimmy Tim._

“Rob says he’ll be here in five,” Tess says. “And he’s bringing his cowboy hat. Get changed, Tim.” She tosses the shirt and sweater at him, and Jeremy moves to take off his jacket and shirt and change into the costume.

Tess nods as the transformation takes place. “Yeah. Yeah, all right. Fuck, you look good.”

“Oh, my god, Jeremy,” Paula says with her phone raised. “You look amazing!” She snaps a photo, and Jeremy has a niggling of regret in the back of his mind.  _The guys are never going to let him live this down._

Rob arrives not much longer, wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a buttoned up shirt of fabric that has a slight shimmer. He’s wearing a pair of aviator glasses, and Jeremy knows he’s trying to pull off the Golden Boy look again.

“What up!” he says and tosses the cowboy hat at Jeremy. “Damn. The crew is looking good.”

“Told you he’d fit for the Tim,” Tess says. “Now, come on. Let’s head out. I want to impress the judges beforehand.”

“There’s a competition too?” Jeremy asks.

“Yeah?” Paula says. “What do you take us for? Half assed cosplayers? No! We go full out. Come on, Tim! The night is young!” She pulls on his arm and leads him to Tess’s car.

The next morning, he wakes up with a headache and to Geoff’s laughter in the kitchen.

_“Jack! Did you fucking see this? Jeremy went out for Halloween as himself!”_

Jeremy fumbles for his phone and scrolls through his Facebook feed. There he sees the photo of the event he went to last night—proudly pronouncing him and his friends the group winners of the costume party last night. “Oh, god,” he groans.

_“This shit is fucking hilarious! He went as his fucking self!”_


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adorablyfullmetal asked: Ryan and Trevor are brothers in the GTA universe. That’s my proudest HC. Prompts... Geoff and Jeremy in the ot6 sugar baby escapade on an expensive and romantic vacay???  
> ...  
> pretty sure this pairing would fall into rarepair hell
> 
> enjoy the jeremy/geoff fluff

It’s midterm season and reading week all rolled into one, where the promise of a week off and potentially sleeping in is overridden by the stress of the last few weeks before the end of term.

Jeremy spends it mostly laying around the penthouse because 1) no one will judge him if he doesn’t change out of his sweats, 2) he gets free food here, and 3) the people here will placate him when he groans about final papers. 

He’s got his Renaissance text laid out in front of him and his laptop open to a few well known Renaissance painters. He’s contemplating in writing on Artemisia Gentileschi and focusing on her use and depiction of blood in her violent works. The images he has of her artwork aren’t the greatest quality, but he’ll make it work. It’s only a 1500 word essay. He’s sure he’ll get something out of it.

Geoff flops down onto the couch and peers over the edge where Jeremy has himself laid out on the floor. “What are you researching this time?” He drags over the textbook. “Ooo. The Renaissance. How romantic!”

“Have a look at this then.” He shows him one of the paintings, and Geoff’s eyebrows nearly disappear into his hair. 

“Brutal. Who’s that by?”

“Artemisia Gentileschi. Yeah, she didn’t fuck around.”

Geoff pulls out his phone. “How do you spell that?”

Jeremy spells out the name, and Geoff researches Gentileschi on his own. “Italian, eh?”

“Yeah.”

Geoff slides off the couch and looks at the images Jeremy is looking at on his laptop. “Not as good as the real thing, eh?”

“Nah, but this is only, like, five pages so I’m not too worried.”

“Mmhm. Well, excuse me. I have some phone calls to make.” Geoff departs to leave Jeremy on the floor, and Jeremy goes back to looking at the paintings and noting any common themes between a few of the paintings and how Gentileschi applies them.

* * *

“Jeremy.  _Jeremy._   _Jer-immy.”_

 _“_ Geoff?” He blinks and stretches. “What the fuck?” He sees the clock. “It’s not even four in the morning. What the hell!”

Before he can pull the blankets up over his head, Geoff pulls him to sit. “Come on. Our flight is going to leave soon.”

“Flight? What flight?”

“To Italy! Come on!”

He moves automatically because he’s too tired to try and rationalize what’s happening. So he pulls one some loose jeans and a hoodie–Michael’s he thinks, because he’s not swimming in it if it were Ryan’s–and heads out the door. Geoff has two suitcases at the door. He’s texting rapidly and ushers Jeremy out the door with an arm slung around his shoulders.

“What’s happening right now?” The lights in the elevator are a quick way to wake him up.

“We’re going to Italy,” he says and he has that familiar Geoff patented smirk that means ‘I just thought of the best thing ever and now I want to share it with you.’ Everyone knows that smirk, and you either dread it or love it, and right now, Jeremy hated it because his brain is still fuzzy from sleep.

“This better not be work related.”

“Oh, just you wait, baby.”

* * *

So they go to Italy. First class all the way, allowing Jeremy to catch up on his sleep and not have to worry about all his final projects for once. The trip is slated to last for four days. Just the two of them, because Geoff believes Jeremy needs a bit of a break before he heads back to classes next week. He even went forward and packed everything for Jeremy ahead of time.

They go to Italy, settle into their hotel suite, go out for dinner at a quality restaurant, and walk along the beach that leads to the Mediterranean. It’s nice, it’s fun, and Jeremy forgot how nice it was just to spend some quality time with Geoff. 

And the gifts don’t stop there.

First it’s the new Canon camera that Jeremy has been drooling over ever since he saw Paula’s. 

“We’re in fucking Naples,” Geoff says. “You should take some pictures to remember it.”

And so he does. On the second day, they continue to walk around the city, looking at what history it has to offer. And then Geoff takes him to the “Museo di Capolodimonte. Come on. The fun’s just about to begin.”

They go to the Museo, and Geoff immediately seeks out an art director. And then out of nowhere, he pulls out the most charming and eloquent Italian of all time. After their brief conversation when the director tells them to wait, Jeremy looks at him astonished. “I didn’t know you could speak Italian.”

“One of the romance languages,” Geoff says with a wink.

“Oh, I forgot. You’re a fucking literature nerd.”

“Translations don’t do the originals justice.”

In a matter of hours, Geoff had arranged for him a private viewing of one of the Gentileschi paintings the Museo holds. And he arranged for an expert on Gentileschi to answer any questions Jeremy might have.

And as soon as Jeremy heard that, he takes Geoff’s face in his hands and kisses him. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

Geoff laughs. “I think I have some idea. Now, come on. Gentileschi waits for no one.”

* * *

Tess is looking at him. She hasn’t taken off her aviators since she arrived and took a seat across from Jeremy at the coffee shop.

“You lucky bastard,” she says.

“Yeah? Well, I got a lot more where that came from,” he says with a cheshire grin. “I think I’m going to call it  _Romance in Naples.”_

“I fucking hate you.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: uhhh fuckign... ot6/sugar baby jeremy really hates quiet so when he snuggles with members they hum or sing softly r smth??? Saw a prompt like this and thought it was nice for the ot6  
> ...  
> a Haus member arrives to ruin Jeremy's mood and Ryan needs to put him back together

He’s a white noise sleeper. Comes with having grown up in a city his entire life. Silence is unnerving. Silence is danger. Where are the cars? The late night laughter? The …

The fact that there’s another voice coming from his kitchen when he steps in is more concerning.

Rob’s the only who’s supposed to be at his apartment. Every once in a while Jeremy drops by when he and Rob need to cram or finish up a project. Or just to check up on him and make sure Rob doesn’t hit his self-destruct button.

But this time, Rob isn’t alone. And the voice coming from his kitchen sounds awfully familiar.

He steps into the kitchen and sees a Willems—a Haus member—leaning back against the counter, chatting it up with Rob like they’re old friends. James is by far one of the friendliest members of Haus. He’s an everyman like Gavin is—fits in easily and can charm anyone.

What he’s doing in Jeremy’s apartment is beyond him.

“Hey, Jeremy,” Rob says. “Wasn’t expecting you here tonight.”

“Yeah, just picking up a few things.”

“Oh, by the way, your friend here is wondering if he can stay for the night. I said it was chill ‘cause you’re like barely here, but.” He shrugs.

“Yeah. I was going to say something about that, too. Hey, James. Can I talk to you for a minute in the bedroom?”

James nods. “Sure thing. Be right back,” he says to Rob and follows Jeremy off to the bedroom.

Jeremy immediately closes the door and pushes James up against the wall.

“Ow! Hey, take it easy!”

“ _What the fuck are you doing here?”_

“Okay,” James says, holding up his hands. “Long story short, we hit a little snag in a pre-heist, so we all needed to lay low for a while. And I just happened to be in the neighbourhood and thought I’d stop by! That Rob guy is honestly a  _great_ cook.”

“You are  _so_ fucking lucky that I care about what your death would mean to Elyse.” He shoves James hard for emphasis. “Fuck this up and you’re not going to last long in this town.”

“Okay, geez. I get it. You’d think that someone with five partners would get enough dick, but apparently—”

Jeremy punches him in the jaw before he could say anything more and leaves the room. “Bye, Rob. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Bye, Jeremy!”

* * *

He’s riled up and he knows it. Not really fully of anxious energy, but a restlessness that makes it hard to sleep.

He immediately went to Ryan’s after the surprise visit with James, and he immediately started bitching about it.

“I don’t even know how he found my place!” he said. “The only ones who know about it are you guys and my close friends. I mean, like, why my place? Why couldn’t he have holed up in some motel outside of town? I just don’t get it.”

Ryan was just looking at him then. Studying him fondly as he paced around in Ryan’s room in nothing but a pair of shorts.

“Come here,” he said then. “Let me kiss that frustration out of you.”

And that’s how they ended up on the bed for a good hour.

Now it’s late, but Jeremy still can’t sleep. Ryan’s personal abode is located in a quieter part of town, where the apartment complexes are only three floors, and a lot of younger couples come out to raise their kids in peace. That an retirees not yet ready to make the final move into a home. It fits Ryan’s personality to a tee. He likes the quiet and simplicity of it all, giving him a nice balance in contrast to his hectic work life.

But Jeremy can’t work like this. Can’t sleep like this. He needs that bustle, and tonight is no different.

He’s tossing and turning on the large bed, not able to find that comfortable spot. He’s forced to stop when a large arm wraps around his waist and keeps him pinned on his side.

“What’s eating you, Jer?” Ryan asks. His voice is quiet, rough from exhaustion.

“I already told you.”

“I know. I just haven’t seen you like this before.”

“I just. I don’t know. I don’t sleep like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like. I don’t know. I’m just used to sleeping with noise.” He shrugs as much as he can underneath the weight of Ryan’s arm.

“I can plug in my phone. Or.” Ryan trails off, and Jeremy suddenly finds himself being rearranged, so that he’s more or less lying on top of Ryan. Underneath his ear, he can hear Ryan’s heartbeat steadily pumping blood through his veins. “Or I can sing to you.”

Jeremy huffs as Ryan continues to rearrange the sheets overtop of them. “Like a lullaby? Gonna sing me to sleep?”

“Please. I have more class than that.”

But Ryan does begin singing, a soft and sweet melody that pairs well with the beat of his heart. It’s so easy to fall into it, to let go of the frustration, of the that fact that Haus keeps screwing one of them over in the end. For now, he’s only living in this moment, letting himself be lulled and soothed by the deep baritone of Ryan’s voice.

“Hey, Ryan,” he says, half asleep after only a few verses. “You sing real good.”

Ryan laughs, and Jeremy shakes on his chest. “Thank you. My grandparents made me sing with the choir when I was kid. Didn’t appreciate the stiff dress code, but I do love music.”

“Mm. Keep singing?”

“Of course, Jeremy.”

And he continues, long until Jeremy is asleep, long until his worries are forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of the Escapade!
> 
> For now at least, I no longer have anything else to post yet for this series. Feel free to drop by in my inbox @ staranon95.tumblr.com
> 
> I won't be writing much as of right now, but drop in a prompt and I'll get around to it. Thanks!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so shadeofazmeinya posted one fine day 'please imagine some form of jerevin artist au with artist jeremy and model gav where jeremy paints across gavin’s back and takes pictures of his designs and gavin rewards each work with a bright smile and tons of kisses while he paints'
> 
> and then added '@staranon95 i just realized this could fit in your sugar baby au and i politely ask you to just consider for a brief moment'
> 
> and i had some time to kill

 

The conversation starts as many others have.

While floating in the pool at the penthouse with fuck all to do.

“Do artist people have weirder kinks than most people?” Michael asks. “I mean think about it. Michelangelo? Dude had a thing for dicks.”

“Everyone in the Renaissance had a thing for dicks,” Jeremy says. “Doesn’t mean it’s a kink.”

“Well, then look at Ryan, eh?” Gavin adds from where he’s sunbathing on his stomach.

“What about me?” Ryan asks with an edge to his words. He’s safely hidden underneath an umbrella while also covered in a generous layer of sunscreen. Dude has some serious fair skin.

“No offence, but you get up to some  _weird_ stuff,” Michael says. “Just sayin’. Love you to bits, but you’re an artist type and honestly?  _Kink city._ ”

“What I do in  _my_ bedroom in  _my_ spare time is  _none_ of your business. ’sides. I don’t hear you complaining.”

Geoff guffaws and Gavin snickers. Michael shrugs as if to say ‘I know what I am and I know what I like.’

Jeremy floats around for a bit more, eyes closed, perfectly content to let this fair day slide by until Gavin’s calling him over to the edge of the pool.

“Jeremy, love,” he says. “Will you do my back?”

“Do your  _what_?”

“You know. Slather me up.”

“I think he wants you to jerk it on his back and then rub it in,” Geoff says.

“Not helping, Geoff.” Jeremy swims to the edge of the pool and gets out to pick up the sunscreen left at the edge of Ryan’s lounge chair. He settles himself over Gavin’s hips and squeezes out a fair amount onto his hands before slapping them down on Gavin’s back. At the touch, Gavin squawks.

“That’s cold, you mung!”

“What did you expect? It’s sunscreen on a hot day!”

“You know, it’s a common courtesy to warm up sunscreen as you do, you know,  _lube_ for your partners!”

Jeremy shakes his head. “Suck it up, baby.”

Gavin pouts and won’t let up until Jeremy smooches it off.

He takes this sunscreen session as an impromptu massage. He digs into the muscles, finds himself thinking of designs he could draw, invisible lines he makes into the golden skin before him. And then that gives him an idea.

* * *

“Hey, remember when we were talking about artists having weird kinks?”

They’re at Jeremy’s apartment right now. Rob’s out for the weekend—thank goodness—so they have it all to themselves. He transformed the office into a studio a long time ago, and right now he’s gathering his paints. He has his easel set up, but he’s been thinking of a different type of canvas for some time now.

“Yeah?” Gavin asks. “What about it?”

“Well. I have this idea in mind that I want to try a different type of canvas. Something more  _living_?”

Gavin smirks. “You could  _not_ have made that sound any creepier if you tried.”

“Yeah, yeah, just humor me, will ya? How cool would it be if I got to paint on your back? Like a landscape scene! With water. And a sunset. Like on a lake with trees on either side.”

“You sound like you’ve been giving this a lot of thought.”

Jeremy nods excitedly. “Yeah? And?”

Gavin answers by tossing aside his sunglasses and working on the buttons of his shirt—he’s not vain enough to just rip the shirt open and send buttons flying like Michael or Ryan would. “Where do you want me?”

“Hand on! Let me make some space!”

They end up pulling out an air mattress and laying an old bedsheet over top to catch any drippings. Jeremy carefully sets his paints aside. He specifically looked into buying varieties of pain that worked in the same way face paints do. If everything goes well, maybe Gavin would be willing to do this again some time.

They’ve got a playlist working in the background, something low and soft that nearly puts Gavin to sleep if it weren’t for the cold smatterings of paint landing on his skin.

“Oh, you big baby,” Jeremy says. “I know what shit you get up to with Ryan. Don’t think I don’t know about the ice cubes.”

Gavin snorts, shifting a bit under Jeremy and Jeremy only tuts him.

It’s like muscle memory, the painting. The canvas is obviously warmer than he’s used to working with and  _much_ more pliant, but Gavin’s doing his best to keep still for him. It’s not mean to be a work of art, but it’s still beautiful none the less. When he gets lower on Gavin’s back, Gavin begins to quiver.

“Heh. Tickles,” he says.

So Jeremy takes note and doesn’t go as low as he planned and readjusts to have the painting fade and blend into his lower back rather than reaching all the way down. He can work with this.

When he’s done, he tells Gavin to stay put while he goes to fetch a large mirror and Ryan’s camera that he barrowed for this purpose. “Get some lights up in here,” he says, making sure his work is completely illuminated in the right ways before he gets up to take a few snap shots from multiple levels and angles.

“Okay,” Jeremy says as he hands Gavin a hand mirror and helps him to sit up so he can get a good look at the painting in the larger mirror behind him.

“Wow. Fucking A, Lil J.” He sounds breathless, like he couldn’t imagine how Jeremy was able to pull off such a feat.

And when the pictures are uploaded onto the computer for clarity, Gavin says he should start a gallery like this. Something to do with living art, and Jeremy’s half inclined to agree.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adorablyfullmetal asked: I’ll give you a bunch so you have choices! Dude this is the coolest idea ever! Sugar Baby: Gavin and Michael take Jeremy out for a fun night of drinks and old-fashioned boardwalk games Sugar Baby (extreme fluff edition?): Jeremy is super super sick and has to be taken care of. He only wants cuddles. He’s so sad and cold and sleepy and he just wants to be held. Sugar Baby: someone’s hitting on Jeremy at a bar/club and one or more of the crew rolls up all “excuse me”.

It’s date night, and that usually means Jeremy gets to pick tonight’s activity. He doesn’t want anything overcomplicated, something that will bring them attention. Because he’s going out with Michael and Gavin tonight and they’re not known for keeping it on the down low. He loves them. He does, but he just wants to keep it casual tonight, you know?

“All right, Jeremy,” Michael says as they settle in the car, Gavin fully reclining on the back seat.

“Oh!” Jeremy lights up and pulls out his phone. “There’s this new game’s café open on Third? I really want to check this place out. Rob said it was a pretty great place to go to.”

Michael laughs a little. “Whatever you say, J.”

He pulls out of the garage and heads out to their destination.

“What did you say this place was, Jere?” Gavin asks. He’s finally looking up from his phone for once.

“Game’s cafe,” he says. “It has, like, board games and card games. And we can get like a plate of nachos or something.”

Gavin laughs. “Nachos.”

“Hey, don’t know until you’ve tried it.”

They get to the café, and Jeremy bounds in first, both Michael and Gavin clearly amused by how excited he is.

“Come on! Table’s over here, guys!” Jeremy claims a space for them and as soon as they’re sat he stands before them. “Okay. What game do you guys want to play?”

Michael only shrugs. “It’s all up to you, Jeremy. I haven’t played a board game in years.”

Jeremy goes to check out what games they have and he immediately perks up. He grabs a few and makes his way back over to the table. “Gavin,” he says. “You’ll never guess what they have.”

Gavin looks up at him, a curious smile on his face. “What is it, Jeremy?”

“The game of Gwent.”

Gavin sits up. “You’re shitting me.”

Jeremy holds it up. “May I introduce to you the card game from the Witcher 3.”

He sees Michael roll his eyes fondly. “ _Oh, my god.”_

“Told you this place would be awesome, Michael.”

* * *

They all indulge him. It’s all about Jeremy and how he feels, what he wants. And while he’s always sure to check in with how they’re doing, he knows they just want to care for him. He eats it up. He’s never had this level of chare before—and from five different people no less. Of course, he’s going to just accept everything without question. It’s genuine care without any strings.

Because he’s in school now, he’s also prone to the school borne illnesses. How easily they drift between students. He happens to get a nasty bout of the flu that completely takes him by surprise. He gets sick on a Thursday, has to miss studio time with Tess and Paula and thank goodness he has no class on Fridays. He’s down for the count with a fever and the chills and he has no intention of going anywhere. He’s not at his own place. He actually stumbled into the penthouse and started moaning on the couch until someone gave him the attention he wanted.

“Okay,” Geoff said. “Let’s get you to the bed.”

And that’s how he ended up in one of the spare bedrooms with Jack and Geoff waiting on him hand and foot.

The door to the bedroom remains open when he isn’t sleeping so he can loudly voice how uncomfortable he is and have Geoff rush in by saying, “I’ve got you, Jeremy. Daddy’s coming.” To which Jeremy will only groan louder because, “Geoff, that’s gross.” Geoff will only laugh.

Jack at least just does as she needs to, makes sure Jeremy is comfortable, makes sure he’s drinking and eating if he can stomach it, and then also helps him make the transition over to the couch in the living room because he wanted a change in scenery. And also to try and help Geoff complete a play through of Spyro.

“Your knowledge of this game astounds me,” Geoff says.

“Was the only game in the house when I was growing up.” He pushes his feet against Geoff’s leg. “Over there, over there.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it. Don’t need to be so pushy about it.”

He returns to classes on Monday and is in the studio late that night to catch up on some work. Rob begins leaning in suspiciously close enough to make Jeremy lean back.

“What is it, Rob?” he asks.

“You look like it’s Valentine’s day. It’s March fifteenth.”

“Can’t help it if I got people who love me and like to dote on me.” He stares at Rob until he backs away.

Once Rob is safely at his desk, he says, “Oh by the way, I ate, like, half your chicken soup. It was delicious by the way. Tell Jack I said thanks.”

Jeremy only sighs and picks up his smudger.

* * *

He’s out at a rather peppy bar on a Friday night, an excuse to just take it easy before the first major heist Jeremy will be a part of since the semester ended. It’s an upscale thing with TVs set to some baseball game, great food at great prices, a pool table, and the right amount of people for Jeremy to soak up all the energy and feel like hit is the place he wants to be.

He’s at the bar waiting to pick up some drinks for him and Ryan—what’s on tap and just a diet coke respectively. A woman, probably around his age, slides up to the bar and sets an order for her drink. They settle beside each other, Jeremy looking over just briefly and their eyes meet. They break off laugh.

“Hi, I’m Rita,” she says.

“Jeremy.”

She points to his shoulder. “I like your tattoo.”

Jeremy looks down at his arm, the edge of a tattoo peeking out underneath his shirt sleeve. “Oh, thank you! It’s still in progress. I want to bring it around the arm yet.”

She nods appreciatively. “Nice. I, uh, I work in a parlous so the colours just caught my eye. Where do you go to get your art done?”

They talk for some time, getting comfortable and familiar with each other and the beauties of body art. They talk until they get their drinks and then some. Rita looks down at them. “Drinking for two?” she asks.

Then he snaps to it. “Oh, right. No, I was getting drinks for my boyfriend.” He turns and points at Ryan, who smiles and waves.

Rita closes her eyes, smiles, and then shakes her head. “He looks nice,” she says. “I hope you have a wonderful night, Jeremy.”

“You, too, Rita!”

He takes his drinks and goes back to where Ryan is and hands him his diet coke.

“You two looked cozy,” he says, with a tilt to his mouth. “Have fun making friends?”

Jeremy frowns a little. “What is it with you guys and having me talk to other people?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but most of the people who talk to you are probably flirting.” He wraps an arm around Jeremy’s shoulders and bends in closer. “And you  _know_ how possessive we get.”

“Down, boy,” he mutters. “We’re in public.”

_“I know.”_


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: I had an idea the other day, where some crazy, abusive ex came after Jeremy, not caring that he was with the Fakes, and when the ex started on their bullshit, trying to manipulate Jeremy back to him, Ryan and Gavin found him and fucked him up. And for some reason your sugar baby thing made me think about it again because of course asshole ex would use their relationship and Jeremy's self-doubt against him. Sorry, I'm craving some angst and taking your stuff to fuel it.
> 
> WARNINGS: for an abusive relationship (in the past) with protective sugar daddies on the watch
> 
> as for the sugar baby timeline, this takes place a few years before jeremy goes back to college. when he’s still cementing his place in the crew but has none the less formed a relationship with them

 

The thing with the Fakes is …

The things with the Fakes is they all have each other’s backs.

It’s an interesting dynamic they’ve got going between as a group, as pairs, as individuals. Jeremy has never felt so accepted or so in tune with a group of people in his entirely life. For some reason, they saw potential in him. They found him on the street, causing chaos for other crew on commission, decided he had enough Jack-of-all-trade skills to fill in a position that had just opened up in the crew. His drive for perfection helped them pull off successful heists, and soon he found himself growing closer and closer to each of them.

They love each other, and they love him. And however you wish to define that love, you can’t. It’s indescribable, it’s all encompassing, it’s everything he ever could’ve dreamed of and more. Slowly and surely, it overwrites parts of his past, covers up the parts he doesn’t want to admit because they have enough to worry about. They don’t need to know about all of him. Just the censored versions.

That is until his past starts spilling into his present.

It starts with the texts—it’s always the texts. How he gets Jeremy’s number is beyond him, but it starts with the texts. Threatening, disturbing, vulgar about him and his partners. He ignores them because he knows  _he_ can’t hurt him. He knows  _he_ can’t reach him here. He has the crew at his back, so he ignores them, brushes them off because they don’t really mean anything, do they?

The three of them—Ryan, Gavin, and Jeremy—are crashed in one of the spare bedrooms of the apartment. They’re in a pre-heist funk, all too wound up for tomorrow’s festivities in how many convenient stores they can hit in one night. The three of them have started up a tradition where they all just chill out in the same bedroom. Maybe they’ll smoke a little something, drink a little something—always in moderation because they don’t want to be too out of it for the heist. Just enough to calm the nerves. Ryan always sticks to his Diet Cokes.

Jeremy’s in a half doze, listening to the voices from Ryan’s laptop, playing a rerun of  _Friends._ He hears a phone buzz. It could be his, could be anyone’s.

“Um, Jeremy,” Gavin asks. “What is this?”

He’s tired and relaxed, not picking up on Gavin’s concern.

“Let me see?” Ryan says.

There’s a rustle and a sudden intake of breath. Then a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake. “Jeremy, what is this?”

He finally opens his eyes. Ryan hands him the phone, and he sees it. Another text.

_They’re going to chew you up spit you out  
who are you kidding_

Jeremy locks his phone. “What about it?” he asks and stretches out on the bed.

“Is someone threatening you over text?” Gavin asks. He’s concerned.

Jeremy shrugs. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Ryan says, and now there’s the edge to his tone as he shifts on the bed. “If someone’s harassing you, you need to tell us. It’s not like we’ll be mad at you. We just want to take care of you.”

“It’s …” Jeremy struggles to get the words together. He flips his phone in his hands, not looking at either of them. “It’s … hard isn’t it? To admit that maybe you liked someone a lot and they turned out to be an asshole. And you didn’t see the signs and you didn’t go for help because who likes asking for help right? It’s supposed to private. And you, like, try to deal with it on your own, think you were part of the problem. And eventually you get out. But it never stops. Not really, but you keep going because what else are you supposed to do?” He shrugs again and lets his phone drop to the bedspread. “It’s fine now, though. I’ve got you guys.”

He closes his eyes because, fuck, he’s tired and warm.

“When you’re ready,” Ryan murmurs. “We’re here for you.”

It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep.

* * *

“You sure this is the place?”

“Yeah. Traced the number here. Bandana’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“Says the guy who’s wearing the gold rimmed aviators.”

Gavin shakes his head fondly as Ryan, with his face half covered in a skull patterned bandana, knocks on the apartment door.

When the door opens, Gavin grins brightly. “You must be Oscar,” he says. His grin is as a sharp as one of the knives strapped to Ryan’s thigh. “We’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

Before the man can move, Ryan rushes him and pins him up against the wall. Gavin steps in neatly and takes out the man’s phone.

“So we’ve heard that you’ve been sending some not nice texts to a friend of ours.” He gets to the contact list and finds Jeremy’s number. “That’s not very nice.”

The man cries out when Ryan hits him solidly in the stomach and hurls him onto the ground.

“See, we don’t like people like you. People who don’t take ‘no’ for an answer. People who don’t respect boundaries.”

Ryan stalks across the floor and lines his foot up for a hard kick.

“So you’re going to  _fuck off._ Or we’ll be back with more of us. We’re keeping it quiet this time because our boy is a little shy at the moment.  _Oi. Got it?”_

The man nods and flinches when Ryan fakes a move towards him.

They leave the apartment and head for Ryan’s civilian car outside. Ryan pulls off the bandana and turns the key in the ignition.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go hog wild on him,” Gavin says.

“What can I say? I think Jeremy’s made me go a bit soft.”

And that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: For sugar baby au I was thinking maybe some dumbass doesn't realize who Jeremy's sugar daddies are and kidnaps him to hold him for ransom. Or Jeremy meets Ray?

Jeremy’s situation isn’t exactly subtle, per say. Quite a lot of people know he’s in a poly relationship with several wealthy people. As long as they aren’t aware of the fact that he’s actually part of a criminal syndicate, on the FBI’s most wanted list and more, then he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him. Being known as the campus’s ultimate Sugar Baby rather than a feared criminal who has definitely maybe killed like one or two people (definitely a few more than that but, hey, who’s counting right?) is the preferred alternative.

Which is why he isn’t panicked at all when his Uber ride off of campus actually turns into an impromptu kidnapping. It should’ve tipped him off that something was off when the driver was merely standing outside the car waiting for him. He was engrossed in the group chat too much to look up before his phone was swiped from his hands, he was shoved in the car, the doors were locked, and the car took off. It happened so quickly that Jeremy didn’t understand what was happening at first. And then it clicked.

Oh.

He’s getting kidnapped.

This is not the first time he’s dealt with a kidnapping situation. Of course, he’s never been the kidnappee. Ryan once. Gavin twice (by the same people no less. He didn’t really learn the first time). But now that he’s on the other end of it, Jeremy doesn’t really know how he should be acting. Why is some random Uber driver kidnapping him from campus? And then he looks at his clothing (name brand), his watch (Rolex), and his phone (iPhone X), and yeah. Maybe it’s sort of a giant flashing symbol of a dollar sign that’s hovering over his head that makes him a really noticeable target.

All he hopes, really, is that this isn’t crew related. He doesn’t need a crew related kidnapping during mid-term season.  That would be a nightmare to navigate. What would he say to his profs if this dragged on for more than a day? God forbid  _two_ days? He already asked for extension on Art during Late Imperial China. He’s  _so_ not going back to Dr. Kwon to ask for more time. Doing it the first time was difficult enough.

But back to the matter at hand—

He’s being kidnapped. He was just at school so he doesn’t have any weapons on him. His phone has been confiscated. He doesn’t know if he should try to reach out and grapple with guy. That could end up in a pretty serious car crash and he doesn’t need that either due to the aforementioned mid-terms.

So he’s stuck here until the car stops and the driver moves around in the front and then he brandishes a gun and Jeremy doesn’t know if he should act scared or surprised or just take this situation at face value. Like what does he do? Does he put up a good struggle for the sake of the kidnapper? This guy has  _no_ idea what he’s getting himself into and Jeremy sort of pities him because of it.

“Now you listen to me, punk.”

Oh, goodie. Cheesy dialogue.

“You’re going to come in with me and then we’re going to make a phone call. Whoever your parents are will  _really_ want you back and we’re going to make a deal, got it?”

_I don’t have parents, bud._

He doesn’t say this however. He just nods along because in all honestly? This is a train wreck in motion, and he’s got front row seats.

So he plays dumb and goes along with it. They’re in a construction part of town where all the old apartment buildings are slated for demolition before new high rises are put into place. Jeremy knows this location because they’ve used this exact location for stakeouts before. He really wants to give his kidnapper points for trying at least. The guy’s putting himself out there.

“Stop dragging your feet,” he’s told.

He’s pulled into the building and forced up front with a firm hand on his arm. He’s marched up the stairs with a gun at his back and he keeps his mouth shut because he doesn’t want to get accidentally shot. By the time they arrive on the fifth floor, he’s led to one of the rooms and taken inside. Then he’s sat down on a chair and told to  _stay there._ Or else. Because, you know, cheesy dialogue and all that.

“All right,” his kidnapper says. He’s holding his phone in his hand. “You’re going to give me a number and I’m going to make the call.”

Jeremy nods slowly, doesn’t want to spook this man now. He could hurt himself.

So he’s given his phone to unlock it and then it’s taken from him. And then he remembers what his contact list is like and how much of a joke it is because—

Because Geoff is labeled as ‘dad’. He’s the OG dad to be sure, but a long time ago Jeremy though it’d be funny and just never remembered to change it back because he got used to it and well, Geoff must be having an interesting conversation right now.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” his kidnapper says. “I have your son. And if you want to see him again, you’ll pay me $250,000 by the next six hours. Cash. Do I make myself clear?”

Kudos to him though. He sounds like he’s done this before. It’s a reasonable amount in a reasonable amount of time. Maybe Jeremy should give him more credit than he thought.

Until he hears Geoff laughter from the other end of the receiver.

His kidnapper’s expression turns into one of confusion and then he looks to Jeremy, says, “Estranged father?”

“That might be one way of putting it,” Jeremy says.

But the kidnapper hammers home on his previous message with an added threat of physical violence towards Jeremy, which does have Jeremy squirming because the man has a gun. How could he not be worried? And then the call ends, so hopefully after Geoff’s laughing fit passes he actually does something about this because Jeremy doesn’t have six hours to spend here. Not when Dr. Kwon’s presentation needs to get itself done for its deadline in three days.

“Did you ever think you’d grow up to be what you’re doing now?” Jeremy asks because he’s waiting and he’s  _bored._ Might as well strike up a conversation with the guy who kidnapped  _a Fake._

“What?” the kidnapper says, looking out through the window down on the streets. “You mean ransoming off rich pricks like you?”

“Wel—hey now. I take offense to being called a prick.”

“How much did your watch cost you?”

“That was, um, a gift?”

The kidnapper scoffs. “$250,000 won’t hurt a thing for your parents. You got nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, but you do, pal,” he says quietly and just then, the door to the apartment is kicked in.

It’s Ryan and Michael. Of course Geoff would send them. He’s probably still rolling around on the floor at being mistaken for Jeremy’s dad.

The kidnapper raises his gun, but Ryan is unfazed and Michael is laughing. “Oh, you dumb fuck,” he says. “You messed with the wrong crew, bud.”

One unconscious kidnapper later, they’re in Taco Bell getting a victory snack before heading back to the penthouse.

“Kidnapped by an Uber driver,” Ryan says.

“Yeah, right?” Jeremy says. “And it set me back by like two hours. I’m going to be up all night!”

Michael laughs, sinking in his seat at Jeremy’s plight. “Your life must be  _so hard._ ”

“Oh, fuck you guys.”


End file.
